Cold
by Aurore Day
Summary: A cold house.  A cold husband.  A cold wedding night.  NB/LM


**Hey!**

**This is just a drabble I thought up in my Bio class. Originally, I was going to try to write my first M, but I rather like how it turned out in the Teen version. Nice and dark. I do adore this couple.**

**Read and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Narcissa, Lucius, and their jolie laide life belong to J.K. Rowling and her alone.**

...

A cold house. A cold husband. A cold wedding night.

I confined myself to my maiden chambers as the sun set. There was to be no honeymoon. It was a formal consummation. I would wait here, clad in a long, white shift, until my new husband came and crawled into my bed in the dead of night.

Slowly, I released my hair from its stern braid. Perfectly straight, white gold hair cascaded around my body, not even slightly curled from being plaited. I wondered how it would be, when he came to me. He'd never touched me before, not even a casual brush of hands. A wedding kiss had been forgone. It wasn't an aversion to a woman's touch, but an aversion to my touch.

I'd seen him plenty of times before with common whores picked up off the street, but he'd never tried to take me, by force or otherwise. How would it be? He'd never dare finger me like every other girl he'd bought to his bed with a flip of a galleon. I was a lady, with pureblood lineage stretching back just as far as his. I was to be respected, at least in that way.

No, I knew how he would be. Brisk and businesslike, he would not ever bother with foreplay. He would lay me on the bed and disrobe me with complete apathy. I'd close my eyes as he worked silently above me and things would come to a silent conclusion in a few minutes. Neither of us would be satisfied, and we'd walk away feeling as if we'd just slept with a ghost. There was no satisfaction at all in a union without any emotion at all.

I moved to stand in front of the full-length mirror with all the grace of my new title. Lady Narcissa Malfoy. With my hair let down and my shapeless, knee-length shift, I did not look like the wife of the richest man in England. My visage was that of the resigned seventeen year old girl that I was. My icy blue eyes stared back at me with little emotion. I was tempted to turn away, for the mirror presented an eerie image. In no world should a girl have to give up all her dreams at seventeen.

I did not react when the door to my room creaked open. I remained motionless, staring at the blue veins on my wrist in the mirror with a morbid fascination. Just a tiny incision of a knife, and all the blood of my body would drain out, fleeing to wherever my soul had retreated to long ago. My bridegroom remained on the threshold, no doubt steeling himself to do his duty.

"Narcissa." The slippery, controlled voice of a snake.

"Lucius." I strained to keep my spine as straight as possible, but his very voice made me want to curl into myself and wither away.

The door clicked shut behind him as he moved deeper into the room. His reflection danced behind me in the mirror, as he moved ever closer, close, but not touching. I examined the two of us. We could be cousins, we looked so similar. Our alabaster skin glowed twin whites in the dim candle light I'd been provided and our hair was colored the exact same shade. His grey eyes provided only a subtle contrast to my blue.

"So." We stared each other down in the mirror. His lips twitched up into a smirk.

"Do you like your new quarters, wife of mine"" His hand brushed up against my thigh and I jerked away. Even his skin was cold as death against mine. My breathing sped, like a hunted animal.

"No," I answered brusquely, disregarding the normal restrictions placed on interaction between a husband and wife. I was too tired, too cold, to play the part. "They are not to my taste at all."

His eyebrows slid up in smooth surprise. "Is that so?" He moved closer still, effectively trapping me between him and the mirror. "What would you prefer, Narcissa?"

I strived to maintain my dignity, even as my heart pounded from fright. "Whites. Blues. Golds. Warmer, softer things. This room is hard. Not a place meant for a person to live in."

"I agree." Ominously slowly, he lifted his hand to tangle in my hair and snaked an arm around my waist to pull me back against him. Our bodies pressed together seemed all angles and edges, yet something warm radiated from the union. "But you're not really living, are you Narcissa? You're not alive. You're just going through the motions." His mouth hissed against my ear and I strained away from him.

"True." Even with any inner turmoil I felt, my voice was monotone. "But you don't live either."

He released me abruptly, as if stung. "I live far more than you. You... you do nothing but what is demanded of you by others. You do not _feel_."

"Perhaps not." I locked eyes with him. "But as far as I can see, neither do you. We would not be here if you had not followed your father's orders to marry me. You obey him, the other lords, and, most of all, your precious Dark Lord. When do you make your own choices, Lucius?"

He was speechless, jaw hanging slightly open. I relished his loss of composure, stored the moment away in my mind as a rush roared through me and I almost felt... alive. I pushed forward, dizzy with the power his shock had given me, "As I can see it, the only place we can make our own choices is here, between the two of us. And today, I am choosing to take power. You will _not_ control me. We will be equals and you will allow me to do as I wish. And tonight, I wish for you to leave. I have no desire to share my bed with you at this time."

He had somewhat managed to recover from his shock. His head was tilted, eyes slanted and glittering with unexpected fascination. "You are not what I thought."

"I wish I could say the same."

We regarded each other in the mirror. I'd anticipated anger, but he seemed almost amused. "Then, we are to be equals?"

"Yes."

"Well," he drawled, "I wish to share your bed tonight. There seems to be a conflict of desires. What do we do now?"

Like predator and prey, we circled each other, as he tested every weak chink in my armor. I adjusted my shift. He would not find one way to get through. "I suppose we would compromise."

"Please, do enlighten me on how we could compromise on something like this." His voice dripped with mocking he didn't bother to disguise.

I eyed him in disdain, but did not hesitate to make the next move. I could not miss a step in this delicate dance. "I suppose, at this stage, the most I am willing to concede is a kiss."

"A kiss?" Irritation slid into his voice. "A kiss is hardly a compromise."

"A kiss is all I can give. You may take it or leave this room with nothing." Ridiculous, to think I could win this. Even more ridiculous, that he had let it go on for this long. Perhaps I had more power over him than I thought.

"Fine then," he snapped, and before I could register his words, he looped an arm around me and ducked his head so his lips met mine in a declaration of war.

It wasn't soft, nor was it controlled. It was hard and fast and furious. But most of all, it was hot, with all the burning warmth I craved. I clutched at him as sensations flooded through me and stole away my convictions. Never been touched and yet, there was this intensity between us. His mouth forced mine open and his tongue slid over the roof of my mouth with a triumphant flourish. I couldn't seem to do anything except tremble as the heat of our attraction raced through my veins.

When he was satisfied that I was throughly bewildered, he detached his lips from mine and leaned forward to whisper in my ear.

"Be grateful that you have amused me, Narcissa. For now, I'll go along with your idealistic image of us as 'equals'. But make no mistake. You're mine. Withhold what is mine for too long and I will take it. Remember that, my dear. And good night."

He left me behind in a cold room, cheeks flushed with a half-imagined warmth and a mine twisted with confusion.

...

**Please do review. I am rather proud of it, for a drabble. Thanks for reading! **


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